And I wonder where these dreams go..
by Daroneasa
Summary: Short Story. Jiseka reflects on his life. First attempt to give Jis a personality.;)


Wrote this while I was home sick. It's just a short story in the series, but oh well.=) 

When the world gets in your way. 

I sat in the corner of my thoughts, and I wonder where and

when it all fell apart. When did my world die? And why?

Why is a question for cowards who do not accept fate.

But still, I can't help but wonder what happened. What did I do?

I am not the kind of person who puts the blame on others for my sorrows,

but certainly someone must be at fault for all this. The person I could blame

the most for the loss of my beautiful Daroneasa is myself.

The person I could blame for the loss of my world is Visser Thirteen.

The person I could blame for the loss of the rebellion and my friends is Ras.

But blame does nothing, and it is a coward's game. 

"Jiseka?" 

I snap awake to see Paki and Erion. I smile at them weakly. Erion is a sweet

child, innocent and wise beyond her years. She and her other hybrid peers

are only five or six years old, saved when I and Paki and several others 

escaped from Onlatra. We lost most of our companions on the escape. Two of 

the children, Niuk, Toby, four thinkers, and Ras. 

I could care less about Ras. His death gave us an advantage.

However, he did give his life for the hybrid children, and I will give him that.

Why he did it, I'm not sure. Probably some scheme that backfired.

"Jis, Nissa, Esdee, and Diablo are waiting. It's time for their training."

Paki smiled at me, and I returned the smile weakly. All her fault. No, mine.

Because I wasn't strong enough to resist her, I lost Daroneasa forever.

What did Ras tell Daroneasa that day when she ran away after seeing me kiss

Paki? Did he say anything? Or did he just take advantage of her in her weakness,

and try to win her love when he knew that I would be out of the picture?

I think now that, perhaps, it was a plot. Maybe Ras convinced Paki to seduce me,

so that he could win Daroneasa's love. I don't know. 

War has changed Paki much. She is now nothing more than a motherly teacher

to the children, and I am the teacher of battle, I teach them how to kill.

Killing is necessary, though. A necessary evil, a skill that each of these

little ones will need. Without it, they will never survive to be free of this

underground base where we plot and hope for the day that we will overthrow

the andalites.

When the andalites destroyed the great council, I was made a prisoner. I had been

representing my people. I was doing what was right.

I live for doing things as they should be done. Why won't the world let me do that?

I follow Paki and Erion to the training room. Nissa, my best student, stands there,

training gun in hand, waiting for me. A smile crosses her young face.

"Oh, Teacher Jiseka. You are late! Did you sleep in?"

"Yes," I reply, "I'm sorry to make you wait. Diablo, Esdee, Lucis. Are you ready?"

Esdee and Lucis nod without smiling, as always. LucisBoth are serious children who will grow

to be great warriors. But not as great as Nissa, I beleive.

Diablo, the most foolish of the children, points his training gun, which is unable to actually

injure someone, at me and lets the ray hit me.

"I am ready!" He shouts loudly. I smirk to myself and nod. I notice two children

standing in the corner of the room, watching. Rattie, Ender, and Talen.

Talen reminds me of myself, but with more of an attitude. Ender is quiet and brooding.

I couldn't read his solemn, thin face. Never am I able to understand what he is thinking,

and he scares me, I admit. As a child, he is not that frightening. But I see him growing into

a person who might be like Ras. 

Rattie is small and frail. I doubt she would survive full out battle, so Paki is teaching her

the art of espionage.

I nod to the three children and then go back to teaching my four best students.

I watch them hit imaginary targets and know that someday it will be andalites

they will be shooting. With real guns, and real blood, and real screams, and as I watch fake

enemy lasers hit them, I know someday that, in all likelyhood, that those harmless

rays of light will be deadly shredder beams, and my little children, my precious students,

will know this game on a different level. A level of terror and loss.

But, it's always just a game. A necessary game, for us. And we are always losing.

I meet eyes with Paki, and I know she is thinking the same thing I am. She looks away, with

a tear in her eye. 

"Look look, Teacher Jiseka!" Esdee shouts as she hits her holographic enemy.

It shoots back as it dissapears and the harmless light beam hits her chest. She falls over

and fakes death, then looks back up at me, smiling. She climbs to her feet and begins shooting again.

If only we could do that. If only we could be beaten and rise again.

Someday these children will play this game.

And someday, they'll be hit and they won't look up at me and smile.

Someday, they'll never get up.

They dream of glory, and they don't understand the horror that war really is.

They dream of freedom.

And I wonder where these dreams will go, when the world gets in their way.

I turn my head to face Erion, the most clever of the children. And I see her eyes and know

that she understands what the others cannot possibly grasp.

The game of war will take them, and down they will fall.

Just like war will take me. I know that, and I welcome it. My only reason to live

is the faint hope I store in these little angels.

The three in the corner leave, and I sit down where they were, watching.

The horrors of war flash through my mind while I watch them.

And I can't tell if it's the past or the future I'm seeing. 


End file.
